


stole my seat (and my heart)

by xurenhui



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, broken!taeyong/winwin, can you tell im kinda dumb, he also won't stop laughing, sicheng has no idea what he's doing, this is my first ff omg, this was meant 2 be lapslock, yuta is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 02:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xurenhui/pseuds/xurenhui
Summary: when sicheng decided to get on a train back to seoul he wasn't meant to, what he was expecting was to cry alone in the corner for two hours. what he wasn't expecting was to meet yuta.





	stole my seat (and my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know what to say so i'm gonna start w saying this is my first fan fiction and i literally have no idea what i'm doing. this is kinda shit and short but?? bear w me i'm working on it 
> 
> this is loosely based off a tumblr prompt so credit to whoever the original prompt was from sksksk. this is unbetad so point out mistakes if you see them <3

Sicheng was not having a good day. 

Being a college student meant that he didn’t have a lot of free time, and being a broke college student meant that most of the moments away from school that he did have were spent working, which was what made things worse.

He’d been saving up for a hotel room and a train ticket to Busan to surprise his boyfriend of three years, Lee Taeyong. It was a shame he found out he was a lying piece of soggy tuna after he caught him with somebody else.

After pitying himself for all of 10 minutes (read: sobbing in a burger king parking lot with a large group of crack heads thoroughly judging him), he decided to go home and pity himself in the company of his two best friends, Ten and Dongyoung. 

Which lead Sicheng to acting like he was in a low quality spy movie. Sneaking into places you’re not supposed to be really is harder than Hollywood makes it look. 

Seeing as Sicheng wanted to get home as soon as possible, he’d decided to do the most logical thing, and sneak onto the next train rather than getting a refund for his ticket and waiting for the next train with enough seats. Plus, talking in Korean for too long made Sicheng want to bang his head on the concrete repeatedly.

Making sure that no inspectors or workers were looking, Sicheng rushed into the open train, and started walking, looking for spare seats as far away from first class as possible. Reaching the very last cabin, he took a seat right in the corner, hoping nobody had bought the seat. Sliding down and looking out of the window, he did his best to not think about Taeyong.

It wasn’t working. 

As the announcement for departure was made, Sicheng wallowed in sadness, thinking abut how Taeyong had told Sicheng he loved him not even hours before, just for Sicheng to find him locking lips with some other guy in the midst of trying to navigate his way to Taeyong’s university dorms.

A cough shook the boy from his reverie. 

“Excuse me, but you’re in my seat.” 

Sicheng looked up, and was promptly met with the sight of the most beautiful boy he’d ever laid his eyes on. But Sicheng also realized the train had left Busan, and he couldn’t just find a new seat.

So he did what he did best, and bullshitted. 

“Sorry. Chinese. No Korean.” Sicheng replied, in the fakest broken Korean he’d ever heard. The boy seemed to realize Sicheng wasn’t planning on moving, and sighed.

“Look, dude, I really don’t wanna stand up for the next two hours, so I’d really appreciate it if you could move back to your original seat.”

Sicheng turned back to the window, and the boy gave up, settling himself next to Sicheng. After a few moments of awkward silence, the boy opened his mouth in an attempt to converse with Sicheng.

“So, seeing as you’re so obviously not Korean, where are you from?”

As Sicheng went to reply, he heard what he’d been dreading the most. Disregarding the boy and peering over the top of the seats, he saw the ticket inspector making his way down the carriage.

“Shit! He’s clipping tickets?” He cursed loudly and began to look for a hiding place frantically.  
The guy whose seat he’d stolen looked confused for a moment, before dissolving into laughter.

“Oh my god, dude,” he got out, “you snuck onto the train? You’re fucked right now.”

Sicheng whirled around from considering the pros and cons of climbing into the luggage rack to give the boy the most withering glare. 

“If you’re not going to be helpful, why don’t you shut up!” Sicheng hissed in the midst of his panic.

“Okay,” the boy shrugged, and leaned in close to Sicheng, “Pretend to be asleep, I’ve got this” He whispered, before sliding his arm round the Chinese boy’s shoulders and pulling him up against him.

Sicheng went into gay panic, but willed himself to stay still. He didn’t know why he trusted a stranger not to rat him out when he’d stolen his seat, but he prayed to homosexual Jesus that the stranger wasn’t going to.

As the ticket inspector approached, Sicheng swore that he stopped breathing. 

“Sirs? Can I see your tickets, please?” Came a polite voice. 

He felt the rumble of the stranger’s chest as he laughed, and pulled Sicheng closer to him.  
“Ah, my boyfriend has fallen asleep, and our tickets are in my bag. Give me a moment?” 

Sicheng assumed the inspector agreed, as he felt the warmth leave his side. Hearing rustling, he cracked one eye open, and as if by magic, the other boy produced two tickets. The inspector observed them silently, clipped them and then nodded. 

“Thank you, enjoy your journey.” He smiled tightly before turning on his heel and leaving. 

As soon as he was gone, Sicheng turned incredulously to the stranger, who was grinning down at him impishly.

“You asshole! How could you scare me like that! Why didn’t you say you had another ticket?”

The other man cooed, and went to pinch Sicheng’s cheeks.

“Is that anyway to talk to your boyfriend, baby? Especially your boyfriend who just saved you from a ridiculously expensive fine?”

Sicheng flushed red, and willed himself not to pout.  
“Why’d you have two tickets anyways?” He demanded.

“I wanted somewhere to out my bags, and a choice in case I decided I wanted to sit by the window. Apparently, some cute guy without a ticket decided to steal my seat though, so my options were slim.” The guy replied nonchalantly.

“Call me cute again and I’ll castrate you. I’m not cute.”  
Ten and Dongyoung called Sicheng cute enough at home, and he really didn’t feel like dealing with a random stranger starting it up too.

The guy smiled, seemingly indifferent to Sicheng’s threat.  
“Kinky, but I think I deserve something nicer in return for helping you out back there.”

Sicheng felt his eyes widen slightly.  
“Please don’t ask me to put your cock in my mouth. I’m not ready to taste flesh yet.”

The other boy burst out laughing. It took a minute for him to contain his giggles.  
“Actually,” he began, “I was going to ask you to get coffee with me once we get back to Seoul.” 

Sicheng raised an eyebrow. The guy was nice, decent looking, and the worst Sicheng would get out of the situation was a bad date and free coffee. 

“Alright,” he sighed, “Only if you’re paying though.”

The other boy’s smile got impossibly wider.  
“Of course, seeing as I’m your boyfriend and all.”  
Sicheng flushed red yet again.  
“How can you be my boyfriend without even knowing my name, huh?” He demanded in an attempt to will away the stupid rush of nerves that had decided to reach his cheeks.

“I thought I could get away with just calling you baby. Knowing your boyfriend’s name? In this economy?” The boy retorted, faking offence.

Sicheng bit back the urge to snort,  
“Fair enough. I’m Sicheng, and you are?”

“Sicheng, huh? Sounds a lot prettier than seat stealer, which is what I’ve been calling you in my head this whole time.”  
He winks, and Sicheng cringes.

“Ew, don’t be greasy.”

“I’m not greasy, I’m Yuta. You can call me your boyfriend though.” 

“Fuck off.”

Sicheng gives Yuta a once over, and leans back, observing the boy cackling at his unfunny joke in the chair next to him.  
It was going to be a long two hours.

 

FIN.


End file.
